Sunday, May 19, 2013

The south of France!

Well I haven’t been blogging much lately, so strap yourself in, this is going to be a long one…

Since I last wrote I’ve done a fair bit! After Nice I caught a bus up into the Maritime Alps to find a small farm that I had arranged to WWOOF on. That stands for Willing Workers On Organic Farms. The basic idea is you work for food and board. I had no real idea what to expect.

I had instructions on how to find this farm, which were pretty easy. The bus I boarded got out of the city and started going through all these very pretty little villages, and then eventually along this amazing road running along top of an amazing red rock gorge. I wasn’t able to get out to take a photo, but here’s one I found from another blog.

I was working on a small dairy farm where the guy made his own cheese. He had 10 cows, and my main job was to shovel the cow manure out of the cow shed twice a day. So glamorous! The cows would leave lots of manure during the night for me to remove in the morning after they were taken out, then in the afternoon they were put back in, and I had to clean it out again in the evening, which wasn’t too bad. I actually didn’t mind too much, and you know, one can take pride in a cow poo free shed!

The first day I was there the farmer was off doing something, and one of the cows started delivering a calf! His partner wasn’t super confident she knew what she was doing, but we managed to get the thing out. Basically you just grab a gooey leg and pull downwards, and out pops this little dude! He was super cute.

It was my job to hand feed him twice a day, which was pretty fun.

The last few days I was there we pushed the cattle out onto some nearby pastures. This was the first time they’d been out of the smaller yards near the farm for the year, as you have to wait for the snow to melt and the grass to grow a bit. It was kind of stressful pushing the cattle, but once they were going in the right direction it was pretty easy. You can see in some of these photos the beautiful mountains the farm was in, and there was still snow on the peaks too.






I also helped make cheese, but somehow forgot to take a photo of it! It was an interesting process to watch, and I really liked the cheese the guy made! It was sort of a softer cheese, but not gooey like camembert. It had no official “type”, it was just the cheese made by this guy, and that’s how all the locals in the valley knew it! When it was fresh it was sort of like a firm mozzarella, but saltier. When it was ripe it kind of looked liked camembert, but was firmer.

I had one day off, and the farm wife (for want of a better term) had to go to a village down the valley to deliver some cheese. I caught a lift with her, then hitchhiked my way back up the valley. It took me seven different cars to get to where I wanted to go, and I was able to explore different villages along the way. This was an old medieval chateau which towered over one of them. It was very pretty!

So, WWOOFing. Well, I would do it again, but I can’t say I particularly enjoyed this experience. I didn’t mind so much shoveling cow poo, I mean the idea is to do some physical work so I can’t complain about that. The farmer was really stressed whenever we were moving cows and started yelling and swearing, which sapped the fun out of it. And while I probably only worked four hours or so a day, it was kind of spread out across the day so I couldn’t really take off and explore the area. But, I would definitely give it another go.

So after I finished that, I went back to Nice for a few nights. I did a day trip to Cannes, which was busily setting up for the film festival which is on right now! It’s a very glamorous town, but I can’t say I loved it. It was interesting to see the hand prints of movie stars in the footpath around the Palais de Festival. I can tell you that Sly Stallone’s hand is twice the size of mine, and Jule Andrews’ is very small! I went to the island off the city called Île Sainte Marguerite, which is an old French prison, and is where the Man in the Iron Mask was held! It was kind of interesting, and the island was very beautiful.

I heard about Les Gorges du Verdon from some couchsurfing hosts I had in Lyon, and I knew I was nearby, but couldn’t work out how to get there by public transport. So I decided to try my luck hitchhiking again. Now, when I was WWOOFing, the hitchhiking I did was only over 30 kilometres in an afternoon, stopping for beers along the way. This was a lot further! I caught the train as far as I could and then hitchhiked the rest of the way to this little village called Moustier Sainte Marie over the course of most of the day.

Moustier is one of the most beautiful villages I’ve seen so far. It’s nestled against an escarpment which has a waterfall which turns into a small stream. The town straddles the stream with beautiful old bridges, and up the cliff is this amazing church, which is quite a long walk up lots of steps. It must have a very fit congregation.

I was staying in a gîte, which is a little hut used by hikers, about an hours walk out of Moustier. It was set on a beautiful plateau overlooking a man-made lake. It was kind of a weird landscape, sort of Australian Alpinish, with small shrubs with beautiful flowers.

I met this very nice French couple in the gîte who also wanted to go to the gorges, so the next day we went and hiked it together. It was very beautiful, with cliffs of up to 300 metres, according to the signs! The water is usually a beautiful blue, but there’s a hydro electric dam upstream and they must have been doing something because it was very dirty. But the gorge was still amazing!



The hike ended with two tunnels, one of which was 650 metres long, through the rock! Luckily we had read that you needed to take a torch, because it was pitch black in there! It was a kind of spooky experience, and really bloody cold!!

After leaving Moustier I hitchhiked to Aix-En-Provence, which was a really long day. This didn’t go as smoothly, and I had to wait and walk for about two hours before anyone would pick me up. But it was weird, once I got picked up once the rest was easy. In that sort of area, I could really only hitchhike from village to village. There are so many cross roads going in every directions that it’s highly unlikely your ride will be travelling farther than that the way you want to go. I also didn’t have a road map, but I had written down the order of villages that I needed to pass through. So far I’ve been enjoying hitchhiking and have had only great experiences. It’s also meant my French has gotten better, and I can now at least hold a very basic conversation! One guy offered to take me to the next village if I was happy to wait for 15 minutes while his kid finished playing junior soccer. So we sat on the hill drinking beer and cheering for Riez FC (woo!). Then another couple showed me around their village and we ended up drinking beer in their flat. That’s what I call a win! I haven’t hitchhiked between major towns yet, I’m not sure how to do it on freeways, but I’ve been asking other people I’ve met about it. Catching the train sure is easier, but maybe not as much fun!

I spent a night in Aix-En-Provence and continued to Marseille, forking out for a bus this time. This would have to be one of my favourite cities so far. A lot of French people bag Marseille. It’s an old port town (I mean really old - founded by the Greek empire sort of old) and apparently has some rough elements. But I loved it, and didn’t have any problems. There’s vibrant and packed street markets, a beautiful harbour with amazing old forts surrounding it, the beautiful Mediterranean and amazing street buskers having a good time and drinking beer in the sun.



I couchsurfed with two different people who were both really interesting, and went along to a couchsurfing meeting at a local bar. I just had a fantastic time in this city.

From Marseille I went to Avignon, which is an old city with its wall still in tact! It has this amazing old palace, which was built for the popes in the 1300s. Not quite sure what was going on there, I thought they always lived in Rome. But it’s still very pretty.

After a night couchsurfing in Avignon I went to Montpellier. It’s a little bit inland from the sea, and a funky little university city. I made friends with an Argentinean guy who was staying in the same dorm room, and you can’t dislike any city where you can wander around and find a funk jazz band playing in the streets.

From there I caught the train to Carcassonne, which has an amazing old city. Apparently most of the ramparts were rebuilt in the 19th century, but it’s still amazing to look at! This castle was apparently never taken by force, and when you look at the defenses it’s pretty easy to see why.



Then I headed to Toulouse, which is where I am now (don’t worry, I’m almost done). Toulouse is known as the pink city, because of the colour of the bricks its built of, which have been made out of local materials. I think it’s very pretty, really liked this basilique, Saint Sernin. 
The cathedral, by contrast, is hideous! I read a pamphlet which said it was built in two parts, and originally the first part was meant to be pulled down. This was centuries ago, but the builders ran out of money, so they just joined up the two parts. The only problem was they started building the new part out of line with the old part, so now Toulouse has a dog-legged cathedral!

I'm not quite sure what this was all about... this was in the main square of Toulouse, and this guy was dressed like this by his mates, who then invited passers by to throw cheese at him. Political or social comment? Comedy? I dunno, but man, I pegged that cheese as hard as I could!

Right now I’m waiting for a bus to Andorra. I plan on spending two nights there, doing a day hike in the Pyranees, and then heading onto Barcelona. I’m really excited to see Spain, but also a bit sad to be leaving France! My French, while still firmly in abysmal territory, has improved, thanks to things like WWOOFing, couchsurfing and hitchhiking. I can now hold simple conversations and order a beer pretty well! Going into Spain will mean losing that advantage, but hey, onwards and upwards. How hard can it be to ask for a carafe of sangria anyway?

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